


Terrain

by Lightspeed



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance, Secret Relationship, Sneaking Around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-03-17
Packaged: 2017-12-13 12:35:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightspeed/pseuds/Lightspeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tavish and Jane have found neutral ground underground, and discuss matters of topographical importance.  Takes place after the WAR!, and largely inspired by the unused voice clips that show up in the robots’ voice files.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terrain

Tavish checked over his shoulder, looking around to make sure he was unobserved before ducking into the small, abandoned shack just outside the border of the battlefield at Harvest. It was the usual spot now, long after the ceasefire had been called for the day, when a little off-base privacy was afforded without a furlough. Stepping into the shadows, he closed the door behind him carefully, eager to make as little noise as possible. Turning, he looked around the darkened room, small orange tendrils of dusk leaking through cracks between the boards nailed across the windows. Dust danced in the light like motes of fire, teasing reminders of the burning within Tavish. Narrowing his eye, he tried to adjust to the shadow, and made his way over to a small crate marked “pickled limes”. He'd never figured out how or why someone would want to pickle a citrus fruit, but ignored the errant cobwebs of thought as he moved the crate aside with minor effort. Where it had sat, a trap door sat in the floor, flush with the floorboards, no apparent handle visible. He rapped on it three times with his knuckles, and sat back on his knees, waiting.

The sound of hands creaking on metal welcomed him, making his heart leap. The door popped up and groaned as it opened on hidden hinges, swinging up to reveal a long tunnel down, a set of metal rungs installed on one wall. Most important of all, it revealed the smiling face of Jane Doe, his helmet missing, clad in a white t-shirt and jeans. Tavish, too, was wearing civilian clothes, his work reds discarded in favour of a black A-shirt and his kilt. “Took ya long enough,” the American greeted cheerfully, blue eyes bright in the fading light. From below, white fluorescent light streamed up into the room, giving Jane a halo in the darkness. Tavish found himself appreciating how simultaneously appropriate and inappropriate that comparison was.

"Aye, well, I'm a popular bloke. Hard to get away from the lads enough to have 'time to meself'.” The Scotsman made air quotes with his finger. “'Specially since the whole war 'twixt us, they think, 'Oh poor Demoman needs attention, he needs to be coddled, he needs companionship, he must be so sad,' and all of that bollocks. Eventually I just yell at 'em to get out because I wanna have a wank. Usually works.”

Both men chuckled warmly for a moment. “Alright, well, come on down,” the soldier invited, starting the climb down.

Tavish followed, climbing through the door and shutting it behind him, taking careful grip of the in-set ladder.

They descended about two stories, Jane having a look up once he was on solid floor. His whistle echoed upward through the tunnel. “Now that's a hell of a view.”

The Scotsman grinned down over his shoulder at the shorter man. “Figured you'd appreciate some stunning vistas for your climb.”

“Fine Scottish countryside,” the American agreed with a lurid grin. “Sparse vegetation, but the deep, dark crevasse--”

“Right, that's enough comparin' me bits ta topography,” Tavish interrupted, hopping down the last few rungs to land beside his companion.

“But there's so many ridges and plains I'd love to hike,” Jane joked, turning to lead the taller man down a short hallway to a door. Opening it, he held it open and gestured for the bomber to go first.

“Got me a right tall peak you could climb if yer game,” Tavish said with a thrust of his hips, his sporran swinging out before flapping back against him. “Ach.” He winced a bit.

The American flinched in sympathy. “You alright?”

“Ah, yeh, just, tapped 'em.” Clearing his throat, the taller man stepped through, followed by his companion. The room was as cozy as it ever was. Big, plush convertible couch with threadbare upholstery on the arm rests, an old, wobbly coffee table standing in front of it, held on-kilter by several match books stuffed under one leg. Several stacks of different magazines, mostly about guns and explosives, laid scattered across it, with an overfull ashtray, a few loose playing cards, about two dollars and sixty-seven cents in loose change, a few cigar butts, a pack of cigarettes, and some bottle caps rounding out the controlled mess. A cabinet containing equal amounts of liquor and snacks sat in the corner on the floor, with a few just-clean-enough cups and shot glasses atop it. A small television stood across from the couch on a milk crate, a complicated series of wires running to an antenna somewhere above ground. The reception was still shit. A trash can sat in the corner, overflowing with food packages, beer bottles, and condom wrappers; condoms as well, tied off and wrapped haphazardly in tissues before being chucked lazily in the can's direction. An open package of the offending items, wrapped and unused, lay on the floor next to the couch, along with a box of tissues and a squeeze-tube of lubricant.

It was their little love nest, away from the rest of RED, BLU, and the world. Situated in neutral territory outside the boundaries for combat, there was less chance of surveillance here, and both men were careful not to be followed.

“Still can't believe you found this disused little place, Janey.”

“Yeah, well, digging the tunnel from BLU's side was no small task. Luckily the boys don't ask when I just go off and do something alone for days at a time. So long as they don't hear gunshots or explosions, they consider it a valuable use of my time, and an uneasy peace for them.”

“Yer lucky. We have to keep an eye on our Soldier pretty regularly or he gets up to some pretty ludicrous shite.”

“So I've noticed. Wonder what he's gonna do to piss of Merasmus this October.”

“Right? Like bloody clockwork!”

Their conversation stalled, flooded out as Jane's hands found their way to Tavish's hips, and his mouth to Tavish's lips. The Scotsman idly tossed the door closed behind them as his other hand slid up the American's back to cup the back of his head. Backing up together, bodies pressed close, tongues tangling into near-knots, both men went tumbling together over the arm of the couch, Jane landing atop his lover with a laugh, hands roaming over lines of muscle, ridges and furrows on the landscape of Tavish's body. Surveying the tall man's fertile acreage with fingers and palms and lips, he chuckled breathlessly against that dark skin, coaxing forth goosebumps beneath his rough panting.

The bomber's hands were not idle either, caressing sinew and muscle, the hard hills and valleys of his property, his perfect, rugged tract of land that was his to do with as he wished. As Jane's lips met his neck and lingered there, he couldn't help but chuckle between soft groans. “So how're those boots treatin' ye?”

The American couldn't hold his composure, laughing hard against his sensitive skin, his chest and belly heaving as his diaphragm contracted. “Alright. Get me any more heads with that ghost sword 'a yours?”

“Ah, nae, our Soldier swiped 'em before I could box 'em up.”  
“I'll finish that pyramid one of these days. Gonna get a world record. I'll be in Guinness.”

“You'll be in prison,” Tavish corrected with a laugh. He squirmed a bit under his lover's weight, trying to make his way further onto the couch so they weren't bent over the arm rest. Jane took the hint and followed suit, letting them settle in more comfortably.

“Still can't believe we got away with that.”

“Aye, but it shows to go how tight we have to keep a lid on all this. If they found out we were more'n just friends, imagine the shite they'd try to pull on us.”

Jane grunted in affirmation. “Still surprised how long it took them to catch on, though. We were out in our work colours all the time, in uniform, taking pictures, leaving a big obvious paper trail.”

“Makes you wonder. It was a good test to see, though. Hopefully the big war'll keep 'em off our trail now.”

Kisses returned to Tavish's neck, making his breaths pick back up. “Still sucks we had to kill each other so much more than normal.”

“I don' ken, I thought it was pretty fun. We got to have all our fights in this relationship right up front.”

“You just say that because you got to impale me with that big sword of yours all the time.”

“So how's that different from now?”

Jane thought about this a moment, then reached for the lube.


End file.
